Mission: Marriage. Karen Whiddon

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Mission: Marriage - Karen Whiddon


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grabbed her arm, tugging her toward the bed. “No. I want you.”

      Shocked, she stumbled and nearly fell. Righting herself, she perched on the edge of the bed, empty water glass still in hand. “You’re … you’re hurt, in pain.”

      “So distract me.” Waiting, he watched her. “Come here.”

      Trying to pretend the husky timbre of his voice didn’t affect her, she shook her head. If she moved, even one-tenth of an inch, she’d be all over him. Devouring him, as she’d wanted to do ever since he’d come back from the dead.

      Not good.

      Mouth dry, she tried to concentrate on something else. Like how badly she needed to file her nails. Or brush her hair. Except she couldn’t. Such a routine grooming shouldn’t become sensual, but with Sean in the room, even breathing aroused her.

      So she kept still, unwilling to move and let him know how he affected her.

      “Stop.” Pleased with her brisk tone, she shook her finger at him. “It’s almost morning. You need to try to rest. Thinking about sex won’t help you go to sleep.”

      “I haven’t been with anyone else.”

      Her heart skipped a beat. “What?”

      “You heard me.”

      Why he felt compelled to share this information, she didn’t know. Unless he thought telling her would make her give in. She was glad he didn’t know how badly she wanted to give in. She supposed she ought to consider herself lucky he was injured.

      “Your faithfulness—or lack of—doesn’t matter.”

      “Yes, it does.” He sounded firm. “I took a vow, in a church. I swore before God and this green earth that there’d be only you.”

      Impatient now, afraid to think about what his confession meant, she shifted on the bed. “You don’t have to lie. I know you. You’re a very sensual man. There’s no way you went so long without any … feminine attention.”

      He didn’t answer, drawing her gaze to him as he’d no doubt known his silence would.

      Despite the hell he’d just gone through, he looked damn good. The devil himself couldn’t have looked better. His rugged features had gone serious, watching her in that intense way he had, his eyes dark and full of secrets. His black hair gleamed in the artificial light, one lock falling forward onto his brow. In times past, she’d always brushed that wayward strand back, and he’d grabbed her wrist and kissed her hand.

      She shivered, telling herself to look away yet totally unable to.

      Sean.

      He waited, powerful arms relaxed, his hands dark against the pale blanket, and let her look at him. No doubt, she thought with irritation, he wanted her to remember the sensual pleasures they’d once shared. He wanted to tempt her with more than an apple, even knowing that if she touched him now, she’d be giving up what was left of her soul.

      She couldn’t, wouldn’t let that happen. No matter how badly she wanted him, this dark, fallen angel who’d once belonged to her.

      The woman who’d loved him had died when she’d thought he’d died. Just because he’d come back to life didn’t mean she could.

      “Two years, Sean. It’s been two years. You pretended to be dead, for heaven’s sake! Don’t you dare try to seduce me now.”

      “Natalie, I—”

      “No.” She shifted uncomfortably. “And you shouldn’t even be thinking that way. You’re wounded.”

      “Only my leg and foot. The rest of me is fine.”

      His quip elicited no smile from her. “Stop.”

      “Please,” he said. That one word nearly undid her, because the Sean McGregor she’d known had never had to ask her for anything. She’d given of herself freely and with pleasure, always happy to put her love for him in physical terms.

      “You’re killing me,” she managed, clearing her throat to try to force out coherent words. “Quit. Just quit.”

      Another man might have laughed or attempted to defend himself by pointing out that he’d done nothing, made no move.

      Not Sean. He understood, as she’d known he would. Their relationship had always been both cerebral and physical.

      Her sigh was full of regret. “Working with you is more difficult than I thought it would be.”

      “You’re telling me.” He gave her a rueful smile, finally letting her see the pain in his eyes. “I’d leave, but moving would be rather painful right now, in more ways than one.”

      Closing her eyes, she inhaled sharply, unable to prevent herself from remembering what he’d been like when fully aroused.

      “I’ll go.” She pushed herself to her feet, moving unsteadily toward the bathroom.

      Closing the door, she turned on the tap and splashed water on her face. Cold water. Eyeing her dripping face in the mirror, she hated the lingering desire she saw there. She’d had two years to lose every hint of weakness inside her. Evidently she hadn’t been successful. One look from Sean had her wanting to melt.

      Taking a deep breath, she emerged from the lavatory.

      Sean had fallen asleep. Good.

      Without changing her clothes, she climbed into the bed next to him, sliding under the covers. They both needed their rest. Tomorrow promised to be a long day.

      Tonight promised to be an even longer night.

      The chime of her cell phone woke her. Groggy, she flipped open the casing and muttered a hello.

      “Natalie?” Not only did her father sound wide awake, but unnaturally cheery. “Are you all right?”

      “Yes.” She shot Sean a quick glance. The phone and her voice had awakened him, too. He lay on his side and watched her, eyes gleaming in the dim light. “We were still asleep. Late night.”

      “Did you learn anything relevant?”

      “Only that someone really wants me dead. Some shooter with an AK-47 came after me. Sean was hit.”

      The sharp sound of her father inhaling told her he was stunned. He’d always liked Sean. “How badly is he hurt?”

      “Not life-threatening. I got the bullet out, but combined with his broken foot, he’s in no shape for a manhunt.”

      “I see. I don’t suppose there’s a chance you could talk him into going back to the Highlands to heal?”

      The Highlands. She felt a sharp stab of pain. “Is that where he’s been all this time?”

      “Hasn’t he told you anything?”

      “No.” Unable to keep the bitterness from her voice, Natalie sighed, aware of Sean listening. “Sean has said precious little about what he’s been doing since he ‘died.’”

      Silence fell while her father digested this. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I promise you, if I’d known, I would have moved heaven and hell to get you to him.”

      “I know.” Tiredly, Natalie bit back a sharp retort, concentrating on sounding calm, cool and collected, as an expert field operative should. “I’m surprised Corbett didn’t tell you.”

      Her father’s deep chuckle reassured her. “You know how he is. He only reveals what he wants, when he wants. I’m sure he believed this was in your best interest.”

      “Maybe. But I would have liked a say in deciding that.”

      “I know. But you’ve got to move forward, Natalie. Whatever you decide about Sean, you’ve got to go on with your life.”

      Easy for him to say.


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